Oh, the pressure! The first post is easy because you don’t think anyone is actually going to read it. Now, I know at least three people did — admittedly, one was my husband…
Good morning, world! I’m not facing my day strong or healthy today, but at least I’m awake. Sometimes waking up is the best we can do for the day, and I’ve learned to thank God for that! I have no idea how much longer I’ll be allowed to be around. I hope to live to a ripe (overly ripe!) old age and to see my kids have grandchildren of their own. Even though I am a devout Christian (more on that later, I think…), I am afraid to die. I’ve learned to thank God for that too, since that fear has kept me from taking my own life in my periods of darkest depression. I’m not sure what scares me, but I know that I’d like to put off that trip as long as I can.
Whoa, that was deep for this early in the day! Let’s take it back to happy, shall we?
One of the comments I got on my first entry (thanks, Susanna!) is that I should put my entries into catagories. I will certainly look to do that in the future, but that will require me to actually focus my entries on one topic rather than allow myself to go off on the stream of consciousness rants I’m prone to. I don’t doubt that I can do it, though. I have found over the years that I really can do anything I put my mind to, and that I really am my own worst enemy. If I could just get Lisa out of Lisa’s way, life would be far easier.
One of the things that I know will eventually appear on this blog is a series of entries about my grandmother. I lost Grandma on July 25, 2010. I was alone with her when she passed peacefully away, and I am so deeply honored that she chose me for that last moment on earth. Our relationship was the most important of my life, so chances are really good that I’ll have some stuff to say about it here over time. For now, I’ll say this: it was a privilege for me to have my grandmother for 42 years. No matter how much her loss may hurt me, those 42 years with her have given me far more than I’ve lost. Gladys Louise Christine Berkley, may your memory be eternal!
Hmm… how to follow that…
Ooh, I need to figure out how to post pics on this thing! The one that’s here is nice and all, but it ain’t me. I need to personalize this blog since it was/is intended to be sort of a public diary situation. When I chose the name “violamom2tellsall”, it wasn’t meant to imply that I’m going to give advice like Oprah or Dear Abby — far from it! This is my means of being accountable, of telling on myself. These are the writings of a regular person trying to figure out an extraordinary life. I need to let it all out for myself. If I entertain or help anyone in the process, that’s gravy! My mental health is the goal here. This is to keep me moving forward and doing the next right thing.
My life requires no research and no doctorate. I am the sole expert on it. It is, at times, alternately fascinating and boring, exciting and mundane, holy and profane. It is extraordinary in that it is a constantly unfolding story of secrets, lies, and stuff that you don’t see or hear everyday; but, I’ve come to find out that my life, while extraordinary, is not unique. I hope that some of those who read my stories will tell their own too. We all need a witness, someone to stand and testify that we lived and that our life was not in vain. I have witnessed the tiny, beautiful moments of several lives over the years: my husband’s, my siblings’, my kids’, my students’… I’m blessed to have had many lives to touch and many lives touch mine.
Thank you for being my witnesses, and hopefully not my judges. Part of this journey is also to help me move away from my judgemental natural toward one of forgiveness and compassion. Tenth step work.
I need coffee and some music. I’ll let you all know what I hear today.